scent
by The Black Gryphon
Summary: Haruhi muses in the bathtub about the different scents around her. a bit of Kyouyaharuhi


**Title: **Scent

**Pairing**:Hard to say, but if anything, there is a slight Kyoya/haruhi, barely

**Rating:** PG (to be safe)

**Disclaimer: **I in no way own Ouran High school host club, though I couldn't mind but we all know that'd never happen and i'd never want it to warning: Haruhi is very ooc... but I couldn't write myself out of it .

"Sweetheart, the bath's free" Haruhi glanced up from her textbook and responded with a low 'Ah' before moving to carefully put away her books. Entering the 'small' (though with an apartment like hers, it was perfectly fine, or at least in HER opinion) bathroom. Opening the washing machine, she carefully pulled her shirt over her head, noting that her glasses had clattered to the floor. Quickly divesting herself of her other articles of clothing and carefully storing the glasses in a medicine cabinet, she opened the door to the bathtub, only to have a wall of steam smack her in the face.

"Honestly, that man needs to learn the word 'conservation'." Haruhi sighed as she entered the bath, the smell of lilacs and lavender (her father's preferred body wash scent), thankfully being delicate enough not to asphyxiate her on the spot. Grabbing her wash items she filled the small bucket with water and poured it over her head. Absentmindedly soaping up her washcloth, she heard the familiar thunk of her father sitting beyond the door.

"So, how was school?" This was almost a ritual for them, where her father would sit beyond the bathroom doors and the two of them would talk. Their busy schedules would often leave very little time for them to talk, and when they could, it seemed that their personalities clashed to the point where nothing worthwhile ever came out. Yet for some reason, in this warm, steam filled room, it seemed easier to talk to her father, when she was not face to face with him. Haruhi also reasoned that the hot, steaming water must of loosened her tongue so that she was far more open about her thoughts, or maybe it was just a place not to be interrupted suddenly and a place where she could think without any worries about being strong or feeling embaressed when she let it slip that she had been interested in how some boy had worn his clothes or hair. It was the only place where she could feel comfortable acting like a normal teenage girl. It had all started a few years back, when her father had the indecency to try and take a bath with her. What kind of father think that it'd be in all right to take a bath with a 13 year old girl? She had, as quietly as she could, kicked him out, but he persisted and sat by the door, and thus the discovery. Days, months, years passed where they would just talk until the phone rang, breaking that special moment till the next night. But there was one topic never ventured upon, her role in the Host club at Ouran, specifically the boys.

"Chaotic as usual." Haruhi replied as she rinsed out her hair and clipped the bangs back. Sinking into the hot water, she almost purred as it soothed away her aches. "We had a pop quiz and received last week's essays back."

"Hmmm, Haruhi?" That questioning, sing-a-song tone was NEVER good. "Do you ever wonder what'd those boys would be like as a husband? Or perhaps in bed?"

"WHAT?" Haruhi sputtered as she recovered from her face fault into the hot water. "That is NOT how your supposed to talk to a… we're at most friends! What in the world brings up THIS topic, of all topics?"

"I know, but sweetheart, you have had to wonder what they would be like in that way. If you didn't, I'd be so worried that your not growing up healthy!" Ryouji replied, and Haruhi could almost TASTE the sugary sweet emotion her father was emitting. Suddenly she heard the doorbell ring, and thanked god silently as she heard her father move away to answer it. It was true, she had, once or twice, thought about such things, when the club was silent or too preoccupied with the clients. While she may of not cared to have any sort of relationship with any guy at this point, she was a female after all, as proven by the fact that she was lacking down there. Leaning against the rim of the small tub she absentmindedly drew circles on it's pale cream, tiled surface. "hmm…"

-  
Ryouji frowned as he walked across the main room. While he may have had constant reports of Kyoya, one could not deny the worry that clung around the edge of his thoughts every day. Haruhi was such an independent child, and with all this cross-dressing/hiding of her true gender, it always gnawed at him if he, as a parent, was a bad influence. When the doorbell rang again, Ryouji opened the door.

"Oh, welcome back! Is there anything I could help you with"  
-

Being in constant contact with 6 well-bred, handsome (in most cases, though Hunny would most definitely fall under the category of cute more) was not only bothersome on her studies and sanity, but her inner female as well. Try as she could, Haruhi could not ignore the fine bone structure of the twins, the unique attitude of Tamaki, and the unique scents that lingered behind as they passed by her. Perhaps the most suffocating, at least at first, was Tamaki's. His was indeed one to get used to, especially since he had very little concept of PERSONAL SPACE. To her, he reminded her of the scent of roses, raspberries, and a healthy dose of soap. It took a lot of getting used to, that overpowering scent, but as time passed, she did find herself getting used to it, enjoying it as it faded away into nothing. Hunny, on the other hand, was one that got overbearing after time, the sugary sweet smell of something indefinable building up in one's scent receptors until you would almost swear you were inhaling pure sugar. The adorable sempai however, also brought along with him, the sense of belonging. Even those who seemingly were too shy to say a word would eventually find themselves lost in the cuteness that was Hunny. Perhaps this was why Mori, who smelled like pine needles, doted on the smaller boy. Mori, the quiet, patient, and traditional man of them all, with the most energetic, hyperactive, sweet loving, child. No one would of figured it'd work out as well as it did. Perhaps they brought out something from the other? Or maybe it was just that Mori knew how the handle the bundle of energy. Haruhi never really spent time to ponder upon that.

"Mori-san would make a great husband for any girl. Strong, kind, thoughtful…" She murmured and briefly thought about the prior two. Hunny was far from the ideal husband for anyone at this point, though perhaps in time, some of that innocent nature would be tucked away. Tamaki… She'd rather not think about the insane and chaotic events that would happen in such a relationship. At the very least, whoever Tamaki had planned to wed in the future would have to have a great amount of patience with his playboy like antics and harebrained schemes.

"Mori? Do you mean that tall, silent, hunk of a man?"

"GAH!" Haruhi hadn't even realized that her father was once again leaning against the door! "How could you even think like that! Your what, 20 years older then him?" She stammered, her face bright red.

"That's so mean! But anyway, what about the rest of them huh?" Ryouji pestered his daughter.

"Mmmm…" Haruhi exhaled softly, slight irritation in her voice. She knew that her father would pester her until god knows when till she finished, but it wasn't something she really felt like talking about. Leaning forward, she rested her elbow on her knee and rested her chin against her hand, her thoughts drifting off towards the twins.

Oddly enough, for all their similarities, they each carried a unique fragrance, Hikaru reminded her briefly of spearmint while his brother carried the scent of peppermint. Seeming the same, but different in many ways. Much like mischievous cats, they seemed to stick their noses in everything, those quirky smiles and poorly concealed impish hands always stealing or touching things here and there, especially when it comes to the other…and when there is a group of squealing fan girls around. Unfortunately, Haruhi couldn't ever picture them apart, at least at this point in time. She was sure that Kaoru at least would be suited to going off on his own, But Hikaru seemed to dote on his brother at times, and whoever the girl they were inclined to wooing were would either have to get used to either bouts of impishness or possessiveness, or having two lovers at once.

"Some women go for that you know, a lover and a husband. Certainly keeps the pillow talk interesting." Her father's comment trickled into her steam fuddled brain. ….was she speaking out LOUD? Haruhi swore she could hear muffled snickers and sunk lower into the tub.

"What about Kyoya dear? Certainly you must have some opinions about him." Ryouji purred. Haruhi let out a soft sigh and stood up, grabbing a towel.

"I don't know what to make of him. He's rather talented at hiding his feelings while also at the same time being very involved with the situation. Cold and crafty, yet intelligent and refined. I'm sure he'd have very high standards and wouldn't spend time just idling around in bed." Haruhi responded, beginning to towel the clinging droplets water from her legs. "In my honest opinion, he could either be a very business orientated, cold, and impersonal person, or…" Haruhi paused and looked into the mirror for a moment. "A very crafty and attractive one. At least whoever is married to him won't have to worry about ever running out of money, cause I'm sure they'd never see all of it. I don't really know much about him." Haruhi vigorously rubbed her hair and slipped into the fuzzy bathrobe.

"What does he remind you of?" Ryouji asked after a brief moment. Haruhi didn't need much time to recall, it was most likely one of the most subtle yet most memorable of the six.

"Dark chocolate and cinnamon I suppose. Perhaps one could say it's much like the scent of sin?" Haruhi stated off handedly as she carefully put away her wash items.

She reached into the tub and pulled the plug out, watching the water swirl down into the pipes as she quickly passed her comb through her wet hair. 'Mmm, it's getting longer, I think I should get it cut again.' Grabbing the glasses from the medicine cabinet, she opened the door from the bathing room only to be greeted by a smirk from the elegant face of the man known as Ohtori Kyoya, who was standing in the middle of the living room. Needless to say Haruhi was a bit… distraught.

"Sin? How amusing, coming from the girl who seemingly reminds some of us of strawberries and cream." Haruhi just sputtered and turned a brighter red.

"Well I must thank you Ranka for these delightful pictures. I'm sure they'll be of great use." Kyoya turned towards the door and then glanced at the somewhat dumbstruck Haruhi, who had managed to realized the great deal of blackmail material she had inadvertently given him. When Kyoya, sparing one glance back at the scantily clad female (though in all honestly, she had seen him in far less, so in a way it was a fair trade), had left, Ryouji discovered that hell has nothing which could compare to a truly angered Haruhi.  
-

AN: Ok, not by any way a good piece of work. Haruhi is terribly OOC, but this story would not leave my project addled brain. I just needed to get this out of my system, that and let the tiny bit of Kyoya/Haruhi-shipper out for some long needed air. So sorry for the bad story Xx. I studied the layout of the house from my manga and assumed the toilet and the actual furo to be in separate rooms, or it's really cramped in there. Meh. -;


End file.
